Ephemeral Story Collection
by CanaanAlphardForever
Summary: [47] A collection of tiny stories written for my Ymir RP page. They will all vary in plot and length. AU/canon. YmirxKrista, possibly YmirxNanaba.
1. Oooh You Touch My Talala

Krista felt incredibly awkward. Of all the things her girlfriend had done, this was by far the weirdest; but she couldn't seem to get that point across, no matter how hard she glared or how red her cheeks blazed. It seemed that Ymir was choosing to be an idiot; either that or she was just naturally oblivious. Krista was starting to wonder if Ymir's idiocy really was just fabrication.

Ymir, on the other hand, was not moving an inch. She was standing in the centre of their living room, music blaring in the background. She stood facing her blonde girlfriend, eyes hard and focused, eyebrows drawn in concentration. She knew that there was only one moment to execute and perfect this. With a large breath, Ymir dropped to her knees, thrust her hips out, and sang;

"Oooh, you touch my talala!"

Krista had never punched Ymir that hard in her life before.


	2. Banana Is the Charm

Nanaba scratched behind her ear, frustrated. She was grading some papers - essays, to be exact - and the one on her plate was making absolutely no sense. The student the essay belonged to happen to be Ymir, who in essence, was a terrible student. No one knew this as intimately as the blonde teacher did.

The topic was about how Shakespeare thoroughly depicted the tragic story about a man locked in his own insecurities, driven to kill the only woman who would truly love him, because of his jealously.

Ymir's entire essay was about bananas. This wasn't the first time the brunette student had made a banana joke, referring to the fact that Nanaba's name just so happened to be 'banana' with the letters mixed around. Nanaba was infuriated each time; but this, this was just crossing a line.

The beginning of the strange essay was surprisingly well thought out, describing everything a banana is, but then slowly it transformed into something more imbecile until;

'haha, Nanaba-sensei, when banana growers are heart broken, what do they sing? What else but Peelings? LMFAO.

Please don't give me detention.'

At the end of the week, after multiple lectures and teachers either patting her on the back or glaring, Ymir sat snuggly in detention. Nanaba just so happened to be the supervising teacher, so it wasn't as bad as it could have been.

"Hey, Nanaba-sensei," Ymir said.

Nanaba groaned softly and pulled her glasses off of her nose. "What is it Ymir?"

"What do bananas, Hitler, and Napoleon have in common?"

"…"

"Everything." Ymir snorted loudly as she laughed and slapped her desk. She never saw the chalk eraser flying toward her head until it smacked her right between the eyes.

"Shut the hell up and think about what you did," Nanaba ordered angrily.

Ymir pouted and rubbed at the sore spot. She obeyed for as long as possible, and then she finally couldn't keep quiet any longer. "Hey, sensei?"

"What is it this time?"

"Did you hear about the unlucky man that bought some bananas?"


	3. Damn You Miley

Ymir hated Miley Cyrus. Not for the radical image change or the fact that she was now jiggling her bits in front of a camera. In fact, Ymir had admired her for doing whatever the hell she wanted and giving the finger to her haters. Stuff like that Ymir approved of. She hated people hiding who and what they were for other people.

No, Miley in essence wasn't what had led Ymir to hating her. It was actually all Krista's fault. Well, Miley's fault that turned into Krista's fault.

For some reason the blonde had decided that twerking was now the new in thing, and had taken to twerking every instance she could to either Wrecking Ball – sometimes swinging on something in the house as she sang – or We Can't Stop.

Ymir had just arrived home from an exhausting day at work. She was looking forward to having a long bath and then watching a rugby game afterwards. But, the moment she stepped into her yard she heard the familiar thumping of We Can't Stop emanating from the house. It got even worse when she opened the door. The windows were rattling and Ymir could barely hear herself think.

"Krista?!" Ymir yelled, but the blonde obviously couldn't hear her.

When she found Krista, she was on the kitchen table, half naked and dancing as if she was in the music video herself. She noticed Ymir but that didn't deter her. In fact, she decided to start shaking her ass in Ymir's direction.

Ymir's eyebrow twitched. She quickly found their study to shut the music off and then stormed back into the kitchen.

"KRISTA!" Ymir yelled. "I swear to god if this doesn't stop I will divorce you."

Krista froze on the table, hands now pressed to her chest. She looked startled, but then her lips parted and she resisted a smirk. Her expression grew naughty, and then she turned onto her back and lifted a leg sensually into the air.

"And we can't stop, and we won't stop~" she sang, staring defiantly into Ymir's eyes.

Ymir had never been so mad at Krista in all her life, and Krista had never felt so satisfied with herself.


	4. Self Insert: Part 1

While Krista sat by the nearby desk, reading over her notes and scribbling down with a pencil every so often, Ymir clambered into the room and fell down onto the bed, face first. A great sigh left her, but Krista did not seem to hear. Agitated, Ymir flopped onto her back, frowned at the ceiling and sighed again, louder this time. Still, Krista paid her no mind. Ymir waited a few moments, breathing slowly, and then she threw her arm over her eyes and sighed in the most dramatically loud way she could. At last Krista responded, placing her pencil down before releasing a little sigh of her own.

"What's wrong?" she asked, going over her notes again.

Ymir, slightly offended that Krista did not entirely stop what she was doing to turn and look at her, huffed and flipped over, arms lamely by her side. "I'm frustrated," she answered.

"Why?"

"Well, Dani has all these stories but she won't goddamn write them."

"Maybe Dani has a full plate, you know?"

"Yeah but like, she knows the risk!"

"Ymir, Dani is very loving towards us. She deserves a break."

"A break?" Ymir scoffed. She sat up, hair now tousled and falling into her face. "She's done with school now and all she does all day is wonder around the house in her boxers! She either watches anime all day or plays that awful Dragon-something game."

"Dragon Age. And that's her business. Dani puts so much effort into writing for us. Give her some slack."

Ymir pressed a hand to her forehead and then she rubbed it across her face, whining. "But her list is just growing! I can feel her goddamn frustration from here."

Finally Krista paused in her notes to turn in her seat and catch Ymir's stare. "Are you being ungrateful?"

Ymir scoffed. "No. I just want to fuck you in my office."

"You don't have an office, Ymir."

Ymir laughed. "That's the thing! I do. Not in this AU, but in another one! I also _really_ wanna do you and Nanaba at the same time."

Krista's eyes widened. "Y-Ymir!"

"What? You saw Dani's thoughts! She goddamn thinks about it every night before she goes to sleep."

"B-but that's personal!"

Snorting, Ymir fell back down with her arms behind her head. A spot on the ceiling interested her, so she glued her eyes to it and kicked her legs about. "Well we're in her head so we're bound to see it. Just accept it Krista, Dani is a perv and she loves it when I have a dong, for some weird reason."

"It's your freckles."

Ymir sighed, suddenly exhausted. "Yeah, I know. _I know._"

Meanwhile, Dani sat behind her laptop, lightly sweating as she listened to Ymir rant, nodding slowly because _oh yes_, she knew too. _She knew. _


	5. Dongs and Bongs

The weather was slightly gloomy outside of the large school building. It was just before the end of class, and in one of the classrooms Ymir sat, playing with some clay. This was Clay Design class, and though they were tasked with making something with _feeling_, something that reminded them of their childhood, Ymir found something more amusing to make. Her hands worked skilfully to mould the clay, to turn it into the picture she had in her head—and she would have succeeded had some pissy kid not gone and told their teacher.

"Ymir!" Nanaba bellowed, heading over to Ymir's corner of the class. Her hands were messy, too, since she often helped her students with practical action more than verbal advice. "What do you think you are making?"

Ymir looked down to her clay, internally fretting but outwardly calm. "Um, this is the lovely head of Eek-A-Mouse," she told Nanaba. "What does it look like to you?"

The boy that had called the teacher, a blonde little shit, stepped up to them and crossed his arms over his chest. "I heard you telling Connie that it's a bong."

Nanaba's eyes closed as she pressed a fist to her forehead. "Ymir, first you model a clay penis the size of my arm, then you make a dildo and now _this_?"

"It's not a bong!"

Nanaba had heard enough. "Get out. Now. I don't want to see you back here until you give me a written apology." She stormed back to her desk, desperately in need of medication to ease her headache.

A while later, with school out, Ymir walked angrily down the street towards her house. Krista walked silently beside her, and then she sighed.

"You do this to yourself," Krista told her.

"I don't want to hear it from you."

"It's the truth," Krista argued. "You're doing badly enough in school but you still insist on doing things that break the rules."

"Hey," Ymir stopped short and shoved her hand into her torn, already half opened bag. When she produced what she had been looking for, her anger had been replaced with amusement. "It was totally worth it to make this, though. Remember the look on Nanaba-sensei's face?"

Krista nodded slowly, cheeks blazing. "Ymir, please put the penis away."

It was thick and long—heavy, too—and Ymir felt no shame as she held it up for the world to see. It was surprisingly well done, though. Instead of looking like a tube with a crude bulbous head, like most boys drew them, it was properly curved with realistic veins and an appropriately shaped head. People gaped at them as they walked by, and when Ymir started to make thrusting motions with it Krista had to snatch the damn thing herself and shove it back into Ymir's bag.

"Hey!"

"You have so much talent but you waste it away on making clay penises and bongs!"

Ymir laughed. "Hey, it's funny."

"You were suspended."

Ymir eyed the clay scrotum that peaked out from her open bag, and grinned. Sure, she was disappointed at being suspended—though it had been expected—but she was mostly upset about having being interrupted in her bong-making. "It was worth it," she insisted. "And I really did make the thing look like Eek-A-Mouse, though. How did that piss-boy even figure it out?"

Krista shook her head and circled her arm around Ymir's. "What's done is done. Your mom will be really mad when you get home with the news."

"Nah, she'll probably laugh more than I did."

"Ymir, what is 'Eek-A-Mouse'?"

"Are you fucking serious?"

"What?"

"Google it."

Krista pouted, always upset with her girlfriend's laziness. "Ymir!" The brunette only cackled, digging around to grab her giant clay penis again. She whipped it out, stuck it into her open pants zipper, and then started running down the road. Krista raced after her, yelling threats and warnings. Ymir didn't hear her over the sounds of her laughter and the shocked gasping around them.


	6. What Is Truly Beautiful

The sunset was utterly breath-taking. Ymir sat on the hood of her car, with Historia beside her. She had an arm wrapped around her girlfriend and together they enjoyed the sight of the sun descending. It was quiet and warm, and Ymir inhaled deeply to savour the moment.

"It's so beautiful," she commented.

Historia nodded gently and searched for Ymir's hand. When she found it, she intertwined their fingers and then leaned up to press a kiss underneath Ymir's jaw. "It is," she agreed.

Ymir smiled at the affection, and then it dissolved into a confident smirk. "Know what else is beautiful?" she asked, and she glanced down with purpose to stare deeply into Historia's eyes.

Historia blushed. "What?"

"My ass."

Historia blinked, and then she sat up. "Are you fucking serious?"


	7. What the Fuck, Let's Do Like Donald Duck

Historia sighed wearily as she got home. Work had been a little overwhelming, so she wanted nothing more than to kick her shoes off, throw her bra aside and relax. Let the stress of the day slide right off of her. Historia really loved her job, but sometimes it stressed her out to the point that if she didn't rip her own hair out, she'd be grey before she turned twenty-five.

Inside her apartment it wasn't dark and silent like she had been expecting. She could hear music floating in from the bedroom, and candles lit the hallway up to the door. Historia's heartbeat picked up, though part of her sighed in exhaustion again. Was Ymir trying to be romantic? She wasn't particularly in the mood for romance or sex, and she was honestly too tired to even undress herself. So she dumped her bag by the kitchen and set off for the bedroom, wondering what Ymir had done and how the night would unfold.

"…_pantalones…_" she caught the lone lyric and paused, frowning. The beat dropped, and then a low, husky male voice followed the smooth tones. Historia quickly pushed the door open, and then she stopped dead in her tracks.

"Come on and drop your pants," Ymir sang. "Get up and do the dance. A boundless ecstasy. This is the way to be. A perfect getaway. To where we wanna stay. A journey to the top. Let the music stop_. _What the fuck," Ymir eyes were fierce as she caught Historia's gaze and held it. "Let's do like Donald Duck."

Ymir was spread out on the bed, naked but for the shirt over her torso. She had a hand cupped between her legs, so when the beat dropped she slid her other hand down her stomach to replace its partner. All the way Ymir sang. Historia barely noted the rose petals scattered about.

"La la la la, no no, no pantalones," Ymir bellowed, sliding her other hand downwards again. "No pantalones, no, no no no."

The song ended abruptly, and then Ymir stilled, chest heaving, eyes shining. Historia stared at Ymir's hands, then flicked her gaze up to her face. Ymir had done this before. But instead of punching her, Historia calmly shut the door and then picked her bag up in the kitchen. She had her car keys in her hand before Ymir had even called her name, and then she left the apartment. She pulled her phone out.

"Krista?" Mikasa asked, yawning. "What's wrong?"

"Mikasa, I need to sleep by you tonight."

"What? What happened?"

"Ymir did it again."

"Did what?"

"Gunther."

Mikasa went silent, but the one word was all she needed to understand. She snorted, and then there was rustling as she must have climbed out of bed. Historia could hear Annie asking a question in the background.

"I'll get blankets for you in the spare room," Mikasa told her.

"Thank you."

She shoved her phone back into her pocket and then slipped into the car. Ymir wouldn't be able to chase after her for the next minute, since she, as she had so eloquently sang, wore no pantalones.


End file.
